Dear Stranger
by feathered moon wings
Summary: He thinks about his father a lot, his biological father, about all the things Lenny had said. Did he think about David as he himself wondered about him? He looks at the mirror often, his eyes, tries to find another man in them, picture the same blues on an older face. "Did you ever love me?"


After the whole fiasco with his mind happens, the consecutive escape of The Shadow King and all it encloses. David realizes his mind is somewhat… quiet. Not quite of courses, it's always loud, everyone's always talking around him, their thoughts oh so loud.

Still, it's not the same. It's like he can suddenly focus on his own thoughts.

He keeps meditating every day, calming his mind, his body. And David… well, he wonders about a lot of things, but in particular, he wonders about his family, about not really being his parents' child. It's disheartening. One of the things he was so sure of is a lie. And he wonders about his real family, well, his biological one.

He's never been too great at self-worth, six years in a mental hospital and a lifetime of hearing voices that aren't there while people called you crazy would do that to you. And though he tries to believe that it makes sense for his family to give him away, he can't help but wonder.

Did they really love him? If his father was a powerful mutant himself, why give him away? Perhaps he knew since he was a babe, that he wasn't right…

"I am pretty, I am loved." He whispers under his breath, he inhales deeply.

He thinks about his father a lot, about all the things Lenny (was she real at all?) had said.

 _I knew your father; did you know that?_

 _Your_ _ **real**_ _father._

 _Talk about an asshole. Always acting so holy._

 _And then gives away his only son._

Her sneer is branded into his brain, the way she talked about him (how she kept touching him like that and he couldn't move. _Stop it!_ ).

His only son. Where was this stranger of a man? Was he still alive? Did he think about David as he himself wondered about him? What did he look like?

 _He thought he could hide you from me._

… _he was wrong. I found you._

He must've… loved him. At least some, if he tried to protect him from something as terrible as The Shadow King. It eases him a little, to know this, makes the knot in his chest less constricting. To know that he wasn't just an awful mistake his parents were anxious to dispose of.

He likes to imagine the face of a man, sadness and regret in his eyes as he and his wife give away their only child. Grieving and heartbroken. David guesses that's awful of him. Still seems like a nice enough thought.

 _Look at you, for god's sake kid._

 _Got his same damned blue eyes._

 _I want to rip them off your pretty face._

He looks in the mirror often, his eyes, tries to find another man in them, picture the same blues on an older face. It's hard to do so.

He inhales another deep breath and exhales.

Had he inherited his fathers' height or his mothers? The color of his or her hair? The shape of his body? Was the man athletic or perhaps sedentary? Did he like to read? Watch sports? Was he like everyone else? Or did his mutation set him apart from the rest of the human race? Just like it does him.

Was he as crazy as David had been at one point? He really hopes not. He wouldn't wish that fate on anyone. Oliver seemed to be quite okay with his own psychic powers, perhaps his father had been too?

Its getting late and the sun is setting. He gets up and turns towards the compound. He needs sleep, it's been such a long day, such a long week (such a long life). He needs a few years of uninterrupted rest at the very least (No! It's time to be awake, to do something, to live his life for what seems like the first time).

That night he dreams about a man of long curly hair, disheveled, sweaty and in distress. He can't hear him, like his ears are stuffed with cotton.

He's in a room with a huge bed in it but the man curls by a corner of the room, holding his head in his arms, painfully grasping at his locks. He's calling out to someone, shouting in anguish. He cries in despair and rocks himself. What does he say?

David can't get closer; he's stuck in his place unable to do a thing (that seems to be a pattern with him).

A younger man bursts into the room and kneels painfully by the others side. With trembling hands he takes a needle out of a black box and prepares it, ready to injects the other. David's eyes widen.

"No!" He shouts and he can suddenly move, but he's not fast enough, the youth with the glasses already pumped the drugs into the distressed man. He feels a sudden nauseating familiarity at the scene.

The long-haired man cries still but he's calmer, the drugs taking effect on him.

David is surprised as the man hugs the other, a grateful, pained look on his face.

He can't hear them, can't listen the soft wails, their words, the comforts of the man with glasses. He looks regretful.

David sits by them, not too close, as he inspects the intimate interaction with curiosity. The gangly man whispers to the other as he cradles him, passes his hand through his greasy hair.

 _Charles…_

He thinks he hears him say.

He wakes up. There's a dream at the edge of his consciousness, intensely blue eyes, a needle and brown locks falling onto a face. A nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach. But there is also a sense of comfort. David cannot remember his dream though he thinks he might remember his eyes on another's face.

 _Got his same damned blue eyes._

He wants to find his father, to see him, know him. Find out that his eyes are just like his own. What's your name? He what's to ask, he wants to ask so many things.

 _Do you love me?_

 _I am pretty. I am loved._

As he lays back down and looks at the flat ceiling he wonders again about his real father, did he like the stars, just as his adoptive father had? David hoped he did. If they meet would they do father-son things? Perhaps they could walk together and talk about simple things. Favorite weather. Old movies. Who is my mother? Perhaps now he has more siblings, little brothers or sisters. His never thought of himself as an older brother, but the idea is appealing.

He yearns for these things.

David falls asleep with stars in his thoughts and bright blue eyes that are not quite his own.

* * *

 **Abril: A sort of crossover-ish fic Legion based with sprinkles of Days of Future Past?**

 **The dialogue of Lenny is half from the tv series and half made up.**

 **Finally, after a whole year of wishing to watch this think, I've done it. Legion is amazing, narratively beautiful as cinematographically astonishing. My mind instantly was like, fanfiction, NOW.**

 **It's really nice to see David on screen and the prospect of having my favorite boyo Charles on screen next season is quite exiting.**

 **I hope you people liked this, I enjoyed writing it a lot. Any thoughts or questions, please leave me a review and I'll gladly answer :) have a nice day ya'll!**


End file.
